A magnificent Langdale mountaineering expedition featuring the most famous Grade 1 rock scramble in the district. Highlights include Old Dungeon Ghyll, the steep climb beside cascading Stickle Ghyll, Stickle Tarn, the sheer face of Pavey Ark via Jack's Rake, Thunacar Knott, Stake Pass, Langdale Combe, and the tranquil valley descent beside Mickleden Beck.
Summary: A fantastic walk which involves a spectacular scramble up the rock face of Pavey Ark via Jack's Rake. The Rake is classed as a Grade 1 scramble, requiring continuous use of hands and arms to pull up through the steeper rock steps. There are also several highly exposed sections where a solid head for heights is vital. That said, the scramble is well within the scope of sure-footed, confident walkers once initial nerves are mastered. From the car park at Rossett, we follow Stickle Ghyll upstream to Stickle Tarn before heading straight up the rake. After topping out on Pavey Ark, the route visits Thunacar Knott and joins the Cumbria Way down Stake Pass into peaceful Mickleden.
The Walk Report
Setting out on the walk up Stickle GhyllNearing the top of Stickle Ghyll
I had never been aware of Jack's Rake until around 2000 when Deke and Spud took Dave, Steve, and me on a Langdale walking weekend. When I made the stiff climb up Stickle Ghyll and reached the tarn on that first occasion, I looked up at the rake slicing across the cliff face and was absolutely petrified! There was no way I was going to attempt it until Deke and Spud reassured me that it was far easier than it appeared from below. I remember Deke saying: "If I can do it, I am sure you can. Just follow every move I make and you will be fine."
I took him at his word, and although I felt nervous the entire way up, I made it. Notably, Dave and Steve declined the invitation and walked round the back of the tarn to ascend Pavey Ark via gentler slopes. For me, topping out on Jack's Rake was an exhilarating triumph, and I never forgot those marvellous views looking back towards Windermere. I knew I had to return—and this time with camera in hand to capture every step.
Stickle Ghyll is a rocky undertakingStickle Ghyll and Pavey Ark
And so here I was again, in the fine company of Deke and Spud, camera ready and with no fear whatsoever, prepared to take on Jack's Rake once more. We set off from the Rossett car park on an unbelievable mid-October morning. 2003 had been an exceptionally dry year, and today felt like high summer: not a cloud in the sky and so warm that Spud and I walked in T-shirts.
Deke kept his fleece on because, as he declared, "I need to purge!" Purge he did: he marched up the rocky 400-metre ascent beside Stickle Ghyll and arrived at the tarn dripping in perspiration. We rested by the water to soak in the atmosphere. From here the diagonal slash of the rake ascending from bottom left to top right across the face of Pavey Ark is plain to see. Deciding not to dwell on the exposed drops, we skirted the shoreline towards the foot of the scramble.
Jack's RakeNo going back
I decided to lead the climb this time so I could photograph the lads scrambling below me. After a brief pause at the base, I set off towards the first major landmark: a solitary rowan tree clinging tenaciously to the rock face.
The tree marks a delightful resting point that affords an astonishing vista over the valley towards Windermere. I perched beside the rowan and framed the camera directly down the gully as Deke and Spud climbed into view.
Climbing Jack's RakeSqueezing through the gap
The steepness and raw character of Jack's Rake is pure drama. For much of the ascent, you are tucked comfortably inside a natural rock trough; even where the rock steps are awkward and tight—such as the squeeze Deke is negotiating in the photo—the solid rock wall on your right offers reassuring security against the sheer drop below.
However, that comforting rocky groove does not accompany you the whole way.
Looking down from Jack's RakeThe exposed ledge
Beyond the rowan tree, the trough opens onto a short, level shelf with absolutely no outer wall to protect you. The ledge is no wider than an ordinary pavement. One careless step to your left and you are staring down hundreds of feet of vertical cliff, so extreme care and concentration are vital here.
On my first climb three years earlier, we sat on this very ledge with my legs visibly quivering as I took a drink. This time, there was no trembling: I knew exactly what lay ahead, demons conquered, and I paused to revel in the sheer exposure and space. It was a glorious feeling.
The final scramble to the summitThunacar Knott
After soaking in the thrill of the exposed ledge, the lads caught up. Deke casually sat right on the rim with his legs dangling over the abyss; I sensibly stayed a pace back!
We then made our way up the final rocky chimneys to the summit cairn of Pavey Ark. Topping out after such an exhilarating scramble was pure joy, though part of me wished the ridge could have gone on longer. From the crest of Pavey Ark, an easy stroll across open moorland brought us to the quiet top of Thunacar Knott.
The fells near Thunacar KnottCrossing Mickleden Beck
From Thunacar Knott, we took a leisurely stride across the high Langdale plateau—much to our amusement as Spud managed to sink knee-deep into a peaty bog, thoroughly dirtying the only pair of trousers he had brought for the entire weekend!
We joined the zig-zagging bridleway of the Cumbria Way down Stake Pass, dropping beside Stake Gill into the grand flat-bottomed trough of Mickleden. A relaxed amble alongside Mickleden Beck led us smoothly back to the Old Dungeon Ghyll and our car. A classic day in the fells: Jack's Rake tamed, and memories made for life.
